December 12 - 19, 1 9 9 6
[News]

Contenders

Coming of age

Part 4

by Michael Crowley

Joe has taken shelter from winter's first snowstorm at Brighton's Pig-N-Whistle diner, a cramped, old-style greasy spoon with tabletop jukeboxes. Wearing a starchy shirt with a tightly knotted bold-red tie, Joe has stuffed his large frame into a corner booth.

He autopilots his way through policy questions but brightens when the talk turns tactical. Asked about his plans for the '98 race, he coyly dodges, claiming that this is "a time for governing."

But all the signs for a run are there. Why else would he be spending his time now wooing donors at $500-a-head fundraisers? And look at other recent behavior patterns. Running $1 million in television ads during his blowout win this year -- ads that never specified which office he was seeking. Traveling to rallies around the state as chairman of the Clinton-Gore campaign. Trying out big-think themes in speeches, such as the one he delivered last week to the Massachusetts Newspaper Publishers Association, in which he discoursed on job growth and "the new economy." And then there was that fall campaign rally for Senator John Kerry, attended by Vice-President Al Gore and uncle Teddy, at which all three men referred to Joe as "Governor."

Plus, as Joe recently admitted, the House isn't the best place for a Democrat these days. "There isn't a heck of a lot I can do in the Congress. . . . I just get outvoted."

For Joe, the gubernatorial prospect is almost irresistible; and a campaign offers a new beginning. Cast off doubts by surviving a tough campaign without blowing up, punching someone out, or saying something idiotic and voilà! Joe's a heavyweight, the Kennedy dynasty has new life, and people begin to whisper the phrase "Gore 2000."

Some argue that Joe is already there, but that he is still dogged by the ineptitude of his early years in Congress.

"Joe Kennedy has grown stronger and more productive and more effective every year," says State Senator George Bachrach, Joe's opponent in the Democratic primary. "Some people make the mistake of analyzing him from 10 years ago."

Even a leading Massachusetts GOP official who is no fan of Joe admits that, "In all fairness, when you get a reputation in [Washington] it's very hard to shake it."

We should hope it's just a case of mistaken reputation. Massachusetts risks falling into second-tier status in the next century without aggressive economic development and more nuanced social policies than Bill Weld's welfare-reform dice-roll. Joe seems to recognize this: "We're at the crux of a big decision," he says. "We can develop the kind of economy that will create really good jobs, or we can face an uncertain future."

But even as his experience and connections equip him to handle such social-policy issues as housing and welfare, it remains unclear how he would manage the fierce challenges of infrastructure and economic development.

Republicans, of course, are hoping Joe will do them the favor of revealing himself unworthy in a campaign, not in office. But don't count on it.

"There is some chance that he punches out some guy along the campaign route who heckles him," says one observer of Democratic politics. "But you can be sure that the whole point of the campaign will be to demonstrate temperament and vision."

With close to $1 million already in the war chest, it's hard to imagine how Joe could fail to squash Scott Harshbarger, who will need to buy name recognition and woo independent voters with TV ads.

"Scott will have many of the leaders on behalf of the poor, the elderly, and the disabled," says Bachrach. "And Joe will have the poor, the elderly, and the disabled." There exist, Bachrach adds, "nooks and crannies where the insiders have never gotten to, and where they're still lighting candles to JFK."

After Harshbarger comes Malone or, more likely, Cellucci. Some of the GOP's top operatives would then be called upon to paint Joe as an inexperienced, tax-happy liberal, or to warn voters against handing total control of the state -- no longer represented by any Republicans in a GOP Congress -- to the Democrats.

It remains to be seen whether that kind of reasoning can snuff enough Kennedy candles across the state. Before Joe appears at the Pig-N-Whistle, a thirtysomething woman on her way out of the diner overhears that he is en route.

"Joe Kennedy's coming?" she says with a start. "Maybe I better stick around."

Part 5

Michael Crowley can be reached at mcrowley[a]phx.com.